Everywhere
by FigFan
Summary: 'Cause every time I look /You're never there /And every time I sleep/You're always there.


Author: FigFan  
Title: Everywhere  
Category: We got some Donna!Angst here folks. But its J/D too. So.   
Spoilers: Aw man.. okay. Just figure everything up to Manchester.  
Summary: 'Cause every time I look /You're never there /And every time I sleep/You're always there.  
Disclaimer: I just like to take em out for a spin every so often. They aint mine.  
Notes: The song in this fic is "Everywhere" by Michelle Branch.   
  
This one is for the dwarves. Cause well, y'all rock. :)  
  
Feedback: Feedback is to me as tight black shirt is to Josh. Send it. figfan2002@yahoo.com  
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/Turn it inside out so I can see   
The part of you that's drifting over me   
And when I wake you're never there   
But when I sleep you're everywhere   
You're everywhere.  
Just tell me how I got this far   
Just tell me why you're here and who you are   
'Cause every time I look   
You're never there   
And every time I sleep   
You're always there./  
  
She rolls over and looks at the clock, eyes wincing from the bright red light greeting her from the nightstand.  
  
3:27.   
  
She tries to tell herself that it's normal to have dreams about other people. That this is happening because things have changed. She rolls back over and tries to sleep. Tries to sleep without dreaming about how things used to be. How she wants them to be again.   
  
/'Cause you're everywhere to me   
And when I close my eyes it's you I see   
You're everything I know   
That makes me believe   
I'm not alone   
I'm not alone./  
  
She doesn't care what he thinks of her. There are more important things that he needs to be focused on.   
  
The whole White House has changed in the last three months. But she doesn't notice that. She notices how they've changed. The bantering stopped a month ago, she can remember the conversation. She can't steal his food, he no longer eats lunch in the office.   
  
"Would somebody get me the report on this?!" She hands it over to him, he grabs it without a word. She's gotten used to this, but not really. There are days when she blames it on herself for caring too much, there are days when she blames it on the President for doing this to them. But most days she just takes it as part of the job, and blames it on no one.   
  
One day she blames it on him.   
  
"Honestly, do you even SEE me?! Does it even matter to you if I'm here?"   
  
He looks at her and asks if she's called Babbish yet. She sits down at her desk, defeated, and picks up the phone.  
  
She does care what he thinks of her.   
  
/I recognize the way you make me feel   
It's hard to think that   
You might not be real   
I sense it now, the water's getting deep   
I try to wash the pain away from me   
Away from me./  
  
She cries at home that night. Not because she's sad, or angry, which she is, but it just seems like the right thing to do. She cries because she misses her job. She cries because she misses her boss. She cries because she misses her friend.   
  
The TV comedies remind her of conversations about DVD players, hamburgers, and satelites, the news reminds her of Rosslyn, guns, and press conferences. She couldn't get away from him if she wanted to. Now she doesn't, and he's nowhere to be found.   
  
She cries because she's sad, she cries because she's angry. But most of all she cries because she remembers.   
  
/And when I touch your hand   
It's then I understand   
The beauty that's within   
It's now that we begin   
You always light my way   
I hope there never comes a day   
No matter where I go   
I always feel you so./  
  
Days pass, weeks pass. She's gotten accustomed to her new role, paper shuffler and coffee retriever. She finds that ironic, there was a time where coffee was the last thing he wanted. But that time is long gone, and while she reaches for it, she realizes it's not coming back.   
  
Sometimes she can see a glimpse of their old selves. She'll brush his arm as she walks by and watch as his eyes clear a bit and his posture straighten. And then as soon as it happens, it's over. But she holds onto it, a collection taking place in the back of her mind, of glances and smirks, swaggers and quips.   
  
Days pass, weeks pass, and sometimes there's hope.   
  
/'Cause you're everywhere to me   
And when I close my eyes it's you I see   
You're everything I know   
That makes me believe   
I'm not alone   
'Cause you're everywhere to me   
And when I catch my breath   
It's you I breathe   
You're everything I know   
That makes me believe   
I'm not alone./  
  
This time she is woken up at 3 am not from a dream, but from a knock on the door. She knows who it could be, who it should be, but who it won't be. Even so, she climbs out of her safe haven, slips on a robe and slippers, and shuffles across her apartment to the door.   
  
She glances through the peephole and is mildly surprised by who she sees. But then again, this is the person it could be, and the person it should be. She forgets for a moment that she is angry at him, and opens the door.  
  
He's standing there, somewhere between work and bed. His hair is ruffled, yet his mind is still reeling from the day; he's wearing sweatpants, but hasn't bothered to take off his dress shirt.   
  
She refuses to say anything, silently standing her ground. But she doesnt need to.   
  
He looks down at the ground, fascinated by the sandals thrown on in the haste of leaving his apartment. He can't remember if he locked his door. He doesn't care.  
  
He doesn't lift his chin, and his voice is barely over a whisper, but she can hear it.  
  
"I see you."   
  
/You're in everyone I see   
So tell me   
Do you see me?/  
  
---  
End.  
  
  



End file.
